


americano.

by Rei_Rei (anti60ne)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anti60ne/pseuds/Rei_Rei





	americano.

_Kai/Kyungsoo; 2376wc; PG-13_

inspired by [this](http://www.listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=4GjwLVS_W58)  


  


Kyungsoo was working the cash register when Jongin walked in, hair mussed and feet pushing past aisles of travel-size essentials and magazines. His eyes landed on the tall figure hurrying out of his line of sight, just a split second before the plaid shirt disappeared somewhere in the back of the store, near the upright refrigerators housing beverages.  
  
Minutes later, Jongin showed up at the cashier with a six-pack of Hoegaarden. Kyungsoo scanned the barcode etched onto one of the cans and declared the price. Jongin scooped out a couple of bills from his wallet and pushed them across the counter. Kyungsoo accepted the payment, confirmed it, and then handed the receipt and change to Jongin while thanking him for the business. Jongin grunted acknowledgment, his eyes kept down on his wallet, hands, or maybe the beers. Kyungsoo was watching him the entire time.  
  
Then he watched Jongin jog out the store and slithered into the passenger seat of a sleek, white BMW parked by the curb. He watched the car pull away and merge seamlessly into the traffic.  
  
That was their first meeting.  
  
The second time Kyungsoo saw Jongin again was a few days later, near midnight. Kyungsoo was surprised to see him; it was late and the only customers around this hour were college students grabbing coffee and energy drinks and late-night snacks in preparation for another all-nighter, or hobos loitering for the free air-conditioning that he had to shoo out after ten minutes of leniency (sometimes longer when he lost track of time).  
  
Jongin stopped dead in his track as soon as the automatic doors slid shut behind him. He looked confused, eyes staring blankly ahead, as if he had forgotten why he was there. Kyungsoo looked at him, sharing the bewilderment with head slightly cocked to the side as his toes unconsciously kicked into the bottom of the aisle. His hand that was supposed to be shelving a loaf of bread was suspended in mid-air. He blinked when Jongin began moving again, eyes darting around in search of something. Kyungsoo watched him head to the fresh food section, scanning across scant rows of a few sandwiches and a handful of rice balls. He picked up a ham and cheese sandwich and a carton of banana milk. Kyungsoo watched Jongin turn around and pause, then spinning back around and, after a moment of contemplation, put the banana milk back.  
  
Kyungsoo scanned the sandwich as Jongin counted the change. His fingers, somewhat cold, grazed against Kyungsoo's palm as he dropped the coins in it. Something rose up in Kyungsoo's throat and before he could make a sound, Jongin already turned around and left, and the automatic doors whirred close when Kyungsoo snapped out of his thoughts. There was no white BMW waiting outside.  
  
The third time was during the peak hour of the store, that is, 6-8 p.m. Students and single working professionals (who managed to leave work on time) swarmed the store, shuffling from aisle to aisle as they perused and selected what to have for dinner. Some of them chose to eat in, perching themselves on the high stools, facing the windows so as to stare into their own reflection instead of people wondering why they were alone. Some sat huddled around the small tables by the side, usually students, chattering amongst themselves over ramen and bubble tea and cheap, unhealthy food of some sort. That night, Jongin was one of those who sat by the window, wedged between strangers, with nothing in common except loneliness.  
  
Preoccupied by a slew of customers waiting to check out, Kyungsoo didn't notice Jongin by the window until moments later, when the crowd had subsided and the store somewhat reclaimed its nighttime lull. Jongin was swiping across his phone, a hand propping his head. Before him sat a half-eaten bento and a plastic bottle of tea, uncapped. Kyungsoo peered over his colleague's shoulders as the latter rambled on about stocking the backroom. Jongin looked like he had been there for a while, and was waiting.  
  
Kyungsoo was dragged into the backroom to do inventory. He didn't emerge until almost an hour later, and his eyes immediately went to the windows. Jongin was still there. He looked tired with his phone pressed against his ear, lips moving mechanically and eyes cast downward. His other hand was kneading the bridge of his nose. Kyungsoo thought he could make out _Fine, I'll waiit_ from Jongin's lips, but he couldn't be sure, though he was certain that a rather pronounced sigh was released. Jongin put the phone down and his shoulders slumped visibly. Kyungsoo frowned.  
  
Almost immediately, Kyungsoo found himself inching toward the window bar seats, a rag suddenly appearing in his hands. He was just going to wipe down the counters, he told himself. He was just doing his job, he thought. But his mind went blank when he stood behind the stool next to the one Jongin sat, hand dragging around the rag half-heartedly. Kyungsoo glanced at Jongin once. Twice. Then he thought he was perhaps being too obvious and opted to stare into the window instead, eyes trained on the reflection next to his own. Jongin looked ready to succumb to sleep, eyelids so heavy they fluttered open and shut languidly. Suddenly, Jongin sat up straight and his head shot up in Kyungsoo's direction, so quickly that Kyungsoo almost missed it.  
  
"Sorry, I'll be leaving in a minute."  
  
Kyungsoo blinked. Jongin had thought that he had been there long enough and Kyungsoo was passive-aggressively trying to get him to leave.  
  
"Oh no, that's not-" Kyungsoo's voice died in his chest. What was he supposed to say, that he was concerned for a stranger because he looked so.. lonely? He cleared his throat and started over. "It's fine, take your time."  
  
For some reason, Jongin's eyes looked sadder than they were when Kyungsoo said those words.  
  
Jongin said nothing, but tilted to reorient himself to the window. He shoved his hand back to prop up his head and closed his eyes. Kyungsoo took it as cue for him to leave Jongin alone, more alone than he already was and that didn't sit quite well with Kyungsoo. He worried his bottom lip for a bit before turning on his heels.  
  
Kyungsoo went back to the cashiers and turned on the coffeemaker behind. He took a styrofoam cup and filled it with hot Americano, then closed it with a lid. He paused, thinking. He opened the lid and added one tub of creamer. If he remembered correctly, that was how Jongin took his coffee the few times he came into the store early in the morning. Kyungsoo had never actually served Jongin coffee; he was usually working the cash register. But he watched, and he remembered, because it was Jongin.  
  
He held the coffee carefully with two hands and trudged toward the window seats. He took a deep breath when he was a few steps behind Jongin, and then shuffled forward and set the cup down on the counter at the empty spot next to Jongin, as if offering it to a ghost. Jongin still had his eyes closed, lanky body unmoving. Kyungsoo wondered if he had fallen asleep. He hesitated and thought maybe he shouldn't even bother when Jongin cracked one eye open, then both eyes, in puzzled surprise. Kyungsoo cleared his throat and forced his hand to push the cup toward Jongin.  
  
"On the house. You look like you need it."  
  
Kyungsoo felt his face heat up and didn't--couldn't--raise his eyes to gauge Jongin's reaction before his body just decided to whip around, and the next thing he knew, he was back behind the cash registers, legs wobbly and knees knocking into the bottom cabinets. His cheeks felt unbearably warm and he almost began fanning himself when a customer walked in, and he belted out the standard greeting a little too eagerly, his voice squeeching.  
  
Kyungsoo busied himself for the next few minutes doing inventory for postal packages and shelving packs of cigarettes. He was leaning back against the cigarette rack when Jongin got up, phone wedged between his cheek and shoulder as he took strides toward the doors. Kyungsoo watched while trying not to watch, his gaze flittering about haphazardly. He vaguely caught Jongin mumble _Do you have any idea what time it is_ and _I don't know why I put up with your shit, Kris_ before Jongin's back disappeared behind the automatic doors.  
  
Over time, Kyungsoo began to amass tidbits about Jongin's life, and he pinned these things to the bulletin board in the back of his mind. He knew that Jongin took his coffee black with one creamer, that he only drank Hoergaarden--the cans, not the bottles, that he liked plaid shirts, especially with an undertone of red, that he had someone, a boyfriend, maybe, who dropped him off and picked him up in a white BMW.  
  
The last observation Kyungsoo didn't want to keep in his collection, but it somehow stuck to his memory like a leech.  
  
Jongin didn't come to the store again for a few weeks. Kyungsoo thought maybe he had and he just missed the visits, but that was highly unlikely. Jongin was a person of routine, and so was Kyungsoo. That was how their paths were able to cross, and Kyungsoo couldn't imagine them uncross for no reason. There had to be a reason, but Kyungsoo had no way of finding out. He could only wait, and wait he did.  
  
When Jongin walked past the automatic doors again, it was about three weeks after Kyungsoo had dumped a cup of coffee before him, and Kyungsoo was crouched down behind the last aisle, shelving boxes of chips and choco pies. Kyungsoo was about to pick up a bag of Cheetos from the floor next to him when a pair of silver Converse appeared before his eyes. He was momentarily perplexed, thinking those looked strangely familiar. Then he remembered. His head shot up and Jongin thought he had never seen eyes this large.  
  
"Hi."  
  
It was one word. One simple word, something that was passed from lips to lips between friends as well as strangers, so casual, so mundane, so... ordinary. But it was like gold to Kyungsoo, the significance of it so overwhelming that he felt almost guilty receiving it. Kyungsoo just stared at Jongin, his mouth hanging slightly open. The Cheetos swiftly fell from his hand. It occurred to him that he probably should at least close his mouth if not say hi back when Jongin broke into chuckles, and Kyungsoo wanted to tell him he should laugh more, because it sounded really nice.  
  
"N-nice to seet you again." Kyungsoo caught himself before tumbling through stutters, an unsure hand scratching the back of his head as he stood up. There was a twinkle in Jongin's eyes that wasn't there before (or maybe he just hadn't looked closely enough), and Kyungsoo found it impossible tear his eyes away.  
  
"I never thanked you for the coffee."  
  
The coffee. Jongin watched as Kyungsoo recalled and shrunk in embarrassment. Jumbled words tried to claw out of his mouth, but all he managed was muttering _Yeah, no problem_. Kyungsoo felt the tips of his ears burn and pretended to resume his job, though all he did was shoving items in the wrong sections, eyes unfocused. Jongin was still standing there and he felt like he should say something, but he was having enough trouble breathing.  
  
"How did you know I drank Americano with cream?"  
  
Jongin's question caught Kyungsoo off-guard and he whipped around. Jongin's lips curved in amusement, and his eyes were doing that _thing_ again, the thing that made Kyungsoo forget where he was and what he was supposed to be doing.  
  
"How did you even remember?" was what flew out of Kyungsoo's mouth.  
  
Jongin turned to the shelves and mindlessly shifted boxes of Pocky around. There was a smile playing on his face, but Kyungsoo couldn't tell if it was forlorn or cavalier; from his angle, it looked like both.  
  
"Certain things are worth remembering."  
  
Jongin could have said that he remembered mostly because a lot happened that night. He had waited hours for Kris, who was supposedly tied up at work, so they could finalize their vacation plans. Kris had come to pick him up in his impeccable BMW, and then stopped by a flower shop for a bouquet as an apologetic afterthought. Jongin threw the flowers in Kris's face, called him a self-centered asshole who was full of shit before getting out of the car in the middle of traffic, leaving Kris with a raised middle finger as his farewell.  
  
Jongin could have said that he was so upset about the whole thing that he packed up a few weeks worth of clothes and showed up at his relatives' place in Busan unannounced. The city reminded him too much of glimmering leather car seats and expensive gifts of insincerity and incessant apologies and excuses that were just that, excuses.  
  
Jongin could also have said that when he felt okay enough to return to Seoul, he moved back into his own apartment, and walked past this convenience store again. His footsteps slowed as he passed the row of people sitting by the windows, their faces buried in newspapers or their phones while mouths chewing instant meals for a party of one. And he remembered how he had sat in that same position one time, weary and drained and just really fed up, and how someone had offered him a warm cup of coffee, just the way he liked it. Just the way he needed it.  
  
But Jongin said nothing. He just smiled, and this time, Kyungsoo saw it so clearly that no questions were asked.  
  
"I'm going to sit over there," Jongin pointed toward thd window seats. It was early afternoon and there were only a few elderly settled at the tables with sprawing newspapers. The stools were unoccupied. "Have you had lunch yet?" He raised his hand and waved a plastic bag in front of Kyungsoo.  
  
He had already eaten, but oh, what the hell. He asked Jongin to wait while he went to the cashiers, telling his colleague that he was going to take a coffee break. Then he made two cups of Americano, each with one creamer. He brought the coffees to the window seats and sat down next to Jongin.  
  
Kyungsoo was never an Americano guy, but it tasted perfect.


End file.
